


Bridges

by kronette



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-20
Updated: 2010-07-20
Packaged: 2017-11-20 18:44:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/588503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kronette/pseuds/kronette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I’ve taken spoilers for season six (6) that are trolling around the ‘net and incorporated them into what I believe will happen in the premiere. More religious than I’ve ever been in my life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bridges

Quietness pressed against his ears and made him fight the urge to check if his hearing was intact. Despite two months at Lisa’s, Dean still wasn’t used to the lack of noise at night. Having grown up on the road, Dean was used to highway sounds, semis and cars streaking down highways close enough to whatever motel his family crashed at for the night. The chirp of crickets or beetles or whatever non-supernatural bugs were the only sounds he heard now when he stepped outside to observe the night sky. Not that he could see much; light pollution from the streetlamps burned out most of the stars, and it was one regret that he couldn’t let go.

Traveling the back roads had given him a brilliant sky lit with hundreds of thousands of stars. This sky – even though he knew it was the same – didn’t feel right. He brought the bottle dangling from his fingertips to his lips and took a swallow of bitter beer. Two months, and his life had changed so much. A nomad’s life to stability. A lifetime of instinctively knowing his family to awkward pauses around the dinner table. The Apocalypse to…normalcy.

The ache in his chest intensified and he took another swallow of liquid. That ache would be with him until his final dying day and beyond; he knew. When he got to Heaven, he’d find Ash and they’d find a way to reach Sam, even if it was just the sound of Sam’s voice. Sam couldn’t fault him that; the last time they’d been in Heaven (or the last time they remembered, anyway), Heaven had been pretty douchey. Dean wouldn’t be able to relive his greatest hits knowing that somewhere, his brother was trapped inside Lucifer, both of them trapped in a cage.

He caught movement out of the corner of his eye and quickly assessed it. Nothing but a fox, moving from yard to yard in search of dinner or a hiding place. The hedges rustled as the fox scampered between their leaves, and Dean found himself absently watching as it made it to the neighbor’s yard and avoided Yasper, their sleeping dog.

He wondered again if this was the peace Cas had said he’d fought for and won. At seventy years of age – though he was sure Hell had aged him a lot more than forty years – he didn’t have many needs: a full belly, a soft bed, someone to talk to. What he _wanted_ , though, he couldn’t even define. It was the ache in his chest whenever he thought of Sam. It was this _pull_ he felt whenever he slid behind the wheel of the Impala. It was staring up at the diminished sky and searching – he shook his head wryly and finished off his beer. A shooting star managed to be bright enough to be seen through the whitewashing and he tracked it out of habit. _Meteor_ , he heard Sam correct automatically in his head, and smiled.

When his gaze returned to Earth, Castiel was close enough that the trenchcoat filled his vision, only the angel wasn’t looking at him. Castiel was staring at the same spot Dean had been only a second ago – at the falling star.

“What is it, Cas?” he asked softly, not liking the expression on the angel’s face. It was a cross between anger and sadness, infinite and consuming.

He’d learned patience with Cas, and he remained silent until Cas dragged his gaze to meet Dean’s, and Dean inhaled sharply at the loss there.

“Another angel has chosen to Fall, rather than remain in Heaven.”

It took a second to process what Cas was telling him. “That – that was an angel’s Grace?” His eyes retraced the bright object’s arc, not able to judge how far away it had been.

Dean didn’t need Cas to answer; it was there in the slump of his shoulders and the shadows that haunted his features. “They have chosen to be reborn as Anna had done, without their memories of Heaven, rather than accept that the Apocalypse has been averted. They cannot abide living one more day without God’s presence, even though God has not made his presence known in millennia. They were hopeful of the End, of the cessation of what they saw as suffering, and now have been denied.”

A familiar feeling – empty, hollow – settled in Dean’s chest. He no longer had the capacity to be hurtful. He took no pleasure in the suffering of others – not even demons; not any more. Not after Hell. He understood the hurt on Cas’ face; in his eyes. This was Castiel’s brothers and sisters who were abandoning Heaven. Abandoning their family because it got ‘too much’. He’d lived through that, and so much more.

He kept his voice low, whether because it was night and most of his neighbors were asleep, or Castiel’s despair was so palpable, he didn’t know. Almost reverently, he stated, “I’m not sorry I stopped the Apocalypse. I still believe we’re worth saving, or at least in giving us the chance to save ourselves.” He studied Cas’ expression, which didn’t so much as flicker in any sort of rebuttal or accusation. “I _am_ sorry your family is abandoning you, right at the time when you need to stick together.”

Castel tilted his head skyward. “It is obvious they don’t feel that way. They are too concerned about their own weariness.”

“They’re being selfish,” he admonished quietly. “I didn’t think angel’s were allowed to be selfish.”

“A lot of things are not as they were. Angels aren’t supposed to be resurrected. Twice,” Cas admitted to the air between them. “Allowances have been granted by Michael for centuries. Without his presence, anarchy has reigned. Factions are being divided among loyalties. I fear another war will break out if something isn’t done.” 

“Aren’t you the one who’s supposed to be doing that?” Dean asked, his tone curious rather than accusatory.

Cas sank down next to him on the porch step and his shoulders slumped even more beneath the trenchcoat. “I have tried reason. I have tried emotion. I have threatened and pleaded. I am not trusted among my brethren. They question my loyalties, even now.”

Dean’s mouth tightened to a thin line. “Because of me. Because you helped at the end.”

“Because I chose Humanity over Heaven,” Cas redirected gently. “My resurrection and ‘promotion’, as you say, while clearly the will of God, isn’t enough to sway them. I don’t know what else to do.”

“How many would you say are on your side?” Dean asked, tactics and strategy coming to the fore.

“Several hundred, perhaps a thousand. Not even a fraction of Heaven’s forces.”

“Do they all know what went down between Michael and Lucifer? Back when Lucifer was cast out, and again a few months ago?” Dean asked, studying Cas.

The angel’s fingers were interlaced, loosely as if in prayer, and his gaze remained skyward. “Yes. All of Heaven knows this.”

“They know it, but do they _understand_ it?” Dean admonished. “Me and Sam, we had our knock-down, drag-out fights over the years, but we always made up. No matter how long we were apart, we always got back together, because we’re family. When Sam and I found Dad, even though it’d been years since Dad and Sam had their falling out and I thought for sure there’d be bloodshed, they forgave each other. Maybe your family needs to understand _that_. They’re all so stuck in the past that they can’t see the future in front of them.”

He stared at the sidewalk, listening to the rhythm of the cricket’s song and waited for Cas to say something. It seemed like a very long time passed before Cas stood up and turned to him. Dean met his gaze and was surprised at the gratitude that shone brightly.

“Thank you, Dean. You have given me new purpose.”

Uncomfortable under the new, improved Cas stare, he coughed and shrugged. “All I did was yap about my family.”

Cas’ hand on his shoulder didn’t startle him, but the warmth seeping through the touch did. It wasn’t uncomfortable, exactly, but it was…odd. “Family is the most important thing in the universe to you, Dean. I value any insight you provide into the matter.”

“Uh, okay.”

Cas straightened and his gaze went skyward. “Thank you again, Dean.”

Dean blinked, and Cas was gone.

=-=-=-=-=

With the power afforded him now, Castiel had the ability to progress Heaven through billions of years, to the extinction of the star known to Earth as Sun, to the extinction of the galaxy known as the Milky Way, to the extinction of the galaxy cluster and the even greater cluster of galaxy clusters. To near the end of the Universe as the humans had known it.

Heaven didn’t know what to make of it. Castiel could sense the despair growing in the multitudes, the knowledge that this was their future sapped their strength.

“See, my brothers and sisters. Even at the end of all things for this universe, our brothers still fight each other. After billions of years. After the destruction of everything. They only see the pettiness and selfishness between them.”

And Castiel revealed the cage, where Lucifer and Michael had remained throughout time. Michael looked wearier than the multitude, beaten down and twisted into the role that he still believed he needed to play. Lucifer glared at him, but the fire that once was had died out, as the suns and galaxies had before. Time had left them behind, locked in the moment that they had been sealed in the box.

“This is what your future holds,” Castiel informed the multitudes. “The absence of forgiveness. The destruction of mercy. It is not Humanity that does this to us; it is ourselves. We are at fault.” His gaze was filled with pity and sorrow as it beheld Michael. “Michael, Archangel of our Father, do you still believe it is your destiny to kill Lucifer, when the end of all things is near?”

“Yes,” Michael intoned, righteous anger lifting his voice into the void of space.

“Lucifer, the fallen of our Father, what do you believe?”

It took a moment, but Lucifer, eyes locked on Michael, finally answered. “I have seen enough death.”

Castiel sensed the change in the multitudes, the sweeping confusion and interest. He had their attention, and addressed them. “Would you advocate the death of another of our brethren, no matter how fallen, or would you offer forgiveness, as our Father and Son have decreed? Humanity learned forgiveness and mercy. We have forgotten it. Who is the better over the other? Perhaps neither of us is better. Perhaps we could learn the best of each other and find the contentment that has eluded us for so long.”

His strength was fading rapidly, the effort to maintain the multitudes at the end of all things was too much. He returned them to the time that they left, jolting himself off of his feet in the process. He lay quietly, gathering his strength to him, when he sensed another presence near.

“Yes, Joshua?”

The gardener smiled down at him. “God is pleased, Castiel.”

=-=-=-=-=

Humanity had no knowledge of Castiel’s travels. It didn’t know that the angel had moved to the end of the universe and back, that he had spoken to Michael and Lucifer or that God was pleased at his efforts to restore peace to Heaven.

Dean Winchester had no knowledge beyond what he could perceive, yet out of the corner of his eye, he swore he would see something. As he glanced at a mirror, he swore he noticed something. As he turned a corner, he swore something was ahead of him.

It rattled his nerves and caused him to stick close to Lisa and Ben. He brought in a few things from the weapons cache in the Impala, some wards and hex bags that he hid throughout the house. It didn’t ease his nerves as it should. Something was different, but he couldn’t place what. Something had changed, but he couldn’t see it.

A few days later, he literally bumped into Ellen Harvelle. The _very dead_ Ellen, who looked very much alive. She even squeezed him in a bear hug that would have made his Dad gasp for air.

“It’s good to see you, Dean,” she said, then smacked him upside the head.

“Ow!” he said, despite himself. It had _hurt_. He didn’t bother to ask what the slap was for; getting her and Jo killed would be more than reason enough.

She snorted. “Please. Like a little tap like that is going to actually hurt you,” she scoffed.

She had a point. Damn it. “Well, no,” he admitted. “It was – unexpected. Not to mention, seeing you.” He didn’t sense a temperature drop like he normally did around ghosts, but he didn’t know what else she could be. No demon could resurrect a dead person and inhabit their body. Only angels got that privilege.

Her smirk softened into a genuine smile. “I just wanted to tell you; you and Sam did a hell of a job, pardon the expression.”

“Did they let you out of Heaven to tell me that?” he asked, incredulous.

Ellen continued as if she hadn’t heard him, her face wistful and happy. “Bill was so damn happy to see his baby girl again. And me and Bill, we’re acting like it’s our honeymoon.” Her gaze sharpened and focused on him again. “You done real good, Dean.” 

And then she was gone. Just like that, no phasing in and out, no static, no nothing. Just a blink and she was gone. A shiver ran down his spine and he made his way quickly back to the house.

 It was a few weeks later that Cas decided to visit again, this time looking shell-shocked. One look at the angel and Dean was pushing him to the couch, before he fell over. “Cas, what the hell?”

Cas’ voice was very faint, but Dean was certain he’d said, “I just spoke with Gabriel.”

“Come again?” he asked, needing to hear it again.

Cas’ eyes lifted, and awe and fear battled for dominance in his expression. “Gabriel. He told me I was doing a ‘bang-up job’ and that he had put in a good word for me with our Father.”  Cas frowned. “He then pushed a piece of chocolate candy into my hand and demanded that I enjoy the ‘sweet stuff’.”

Dean sat down hard in the armchair, arms hanging uselessly over the sides. “Cas? Isn’t Gabriel dead?”

“Killed by Lucifer’s hand, yes.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t a trick? If he’d been in hiding, how does he know it’s safe to come out now? What if it wasn’t Gabriel?”

 Cas leveled him with that improved stare. “He spoke to me in Heaven, amongst several of my sisters. No demon or trickster could enter Heaven. And it was Gabriel, Dean. You cannot mistake an angel for any other.” Dean watched a shudder run the length of Cas’ body. “He was there and then he was gone. It was most disturbing for all of us.”

Dean’s mouth opened before he could stop it. “I spoke to Ellen a few weeks ago. Said she and Jo are doing great now that they’re reunited with Bill.”

“Why did you not mention this sooner?” Cas growled.

Dean rolled his eyes. “What good would it have done? You’d pop by and see how Ellen’s doing in Heaven?”

Cas deflated just the tiniest bit. “I could have, if I had known,” he answered petulantly.

“What’s going on, Cas? Have you noticed anything different in Heaven – besides Gabriel?” he added, sensing the redundant observation on the tip of Cas’ tongue.

Cas shook his head. “Things have been going well after our journey.”

He held up his hand to stop whatever else Castiel was about to say. “What journey? Where’d you go? And who did you take?”

Cas looked perplexed, then his features smoothed out as he recounted, “I took the multitudes into the future, to the end of the universe. I showed them how our selfishness and pettiness were our own faults, not imposed upon us by Humanity.”

The ‘bad vibe’ tickle began at the back of Dean’s neck and raced down his spine. “And how did you do that?”

“I showed them how Michael had not changed his ways, even at the end of everything. Lucifer was surprising; he appeared contrite, though it may have been the fatigue of Michael cursing his name for eons.”

Dean leaned forward eagerly, elbows on his knees. “You were able to get to the cage? Was Sam still with Lucifer? Was he okay?”

It was Castiel’s turn to raise a hand to stave off the questions. “Sam was no longer present in Lucifer’s vessel. Neither was Adam’s soul in Michael. They must have chosen at some point to release them into death.” Castiel shot him a sympathetic glance. “You must understand, Dean, this was billions of years into the future.”

Dean willed his heart back under control, as it was currently pounding beneath his chest. He stared out the living room window, shivering as he swore he caught a glimpse of blond hair that could have belonged to Jo. “Could something have changed, when you came back?”

When he received no answer, Dean turned to look to Castiel, who had his eyes closed and brow furrowed in concentration. Castiel frowned and opened his eyes. “Something has changed.”

“What?” Dean needed information; he needed to know if he needed to fight. He wanted to fight; he wanted Sam back. He wanted a lot more than he should, considering all he’d been given, but damn it, he deserved it.

“I’m not sure. I must consult with the multitudes. I will return.” And with that, Cas blinked away and Dean rolled his eyes skyward.

“It’s Dean, right?”

Dean whirled around at the new voice in the living room, and nearly fell out of the chair in his effort to stand. “Samuel?” he breathed, not quite believing that his grandfather was standing in Lisa’s living room, looking confused.

His grandfather nodded once. “Yeah, _Dean_. Look, I don’t know a lot that’s happened, but I wanted to thank you for saving Deanna.”

Images filled Dean’s mind, of his grandmother trying to fight off Azazel, of watching her neck snap at the hands of his possessed grandfather, and choked. “No. She’s dead. I couldn’t save her.”

Samuel’s confused look started to give way to an annoyed glare. “Son, I watched you shoot that son of a bitch right out of me. It never got the chance to touch her.”

Dean scrambled back and fell over the back of the couch, because he’d just watched Samuel’s eyes turn _yellow_. “No, I killed you, you son of a bitch!”

“Yes, you did,” the thing inside Samuel mused as it clucked its borrowed tongue. “It was most unpleasant.”

Dean’s mind was whirling. He didn’t have any guns in the house – Lisa’s rule. Knives in the kitchen wouldn’t do much good, being too far away and regular knives. The demon-killing knife was in the trunk of the Impala. _Shit._

Samuel-demon waved its hand. “Don’t fret, Dean. I can’t touch you. Not any more. I’m dead, remember?”

“Then what are you doing here?” he demanded, alert for the smallest hint of movement on the son of a bitch’s part. “ _How_ are you here?”

“Your angel friend, Castiel. He did something he wasn’t supposed to. Big surprise there,” the demon hummed as it inspected its fingernails.

Despite himself, he took a step forward. “Leave him out of this.”

The bastard chuckled. “Like I can damage him. Have you _seen_ him lately? Have you felt his power?” The demon smirked. “No, it doesn’t look like you have. Pity. Corrupting one of Heaven’s darlings is always fun for the corruptor.” It tilted its head. “Not always for the corruptee, but that really depends on your technique, I’ve found. Some have even been grateful.”

“Shut your cake hole before I shut it for you,” Dean snarled, advancing another step.

The demon sighed. “You’re no fun.” And just like that, Samuel’s eyes were back to their regular color.

“That gets very annoying,” Samuel growled, actually punching himself in the chest.

Dean blinked. “What?”

Samuel shook his head and ignored his question, instead speaking. “I came to thank you, and I have. Mary had her mother, which is more than I could have hoped for after that disaster with the yellow-eyed son of a bitch. And despite the occasional possession by that asshole, death hasn’t been so bad. I have visitation with Deanna, Mary and John whenever they want.”

“Visitation?” Dean repeated, faintly.

“In purgatory. It’s not ideal, but it’s better than no contact at all.” Samuel gave an odd half-smile. “Thanks, son.”

And just like that, Dean was alone again. “Son of a…”

“Dean!” Castiel popped in from nowhere and grabbed his arms, eyes wild.

His hands immediately went to Castiel’s arms to steady him. “Cas, what is it? What’s wrong?”

The angel looked out of breath, but that wasn’t possible. The vessel didn’t technically need to breathe. “I had – Alistair. I just spoke with Alistair.”

Dean’s head started shaking back and forth. “No, no, no, no, this isn’t possible. This isn’t happening! Alistair’s dead – you said you saw Sam kill him!”

“I did!” Castiel yelled back, shoving away from Dean and turning toward the door. “I watched Sam burn Alistair out of his vessel. I felt the demon die.”

“Then how did you talk to him?”

“Just as I’m talking to you, now.” Castiel turned around, a deep frown marring his features. “My trip to Heaven was disturbing as well. Things _have_ changed, only I can’t pinpoint where the changes began. If I could find the source of the change, I could change it back. My garrison is out looking, now,” Castiel added as an afterthought.

Dean had to be losing his mind. He had to be. How else to explain seeing dead people and dead demons? “What the _hell_ , Cas? You saw Alistair. I just talked to my dead grandfather who was possessed by that yellow-eyed son of a bitch!”

Castiel was shaking his head as well, though not mumbling under his breath as Dean was. “Something must have changed when I brought back Heaven to this time. Something must have happened in the future. Something I missed.”

“Go back and fix it,” Dean snapped, not wanting visits from any more ghosts of Christmas past. “I don’t care how you do it, _go back and fix it._ ”

“I _can’t_ ,” Castiel bellowed, startling Dean out of his shock. “It will take me centuries to build up enough power to send us forward in time that far. Our best chance of correcting this is to find where the path changed from the one we know. My garrison will uncover the disturbance in time and report back to me.”

“This ain’t _Star Wars_ , Cas, and you’re no Obi Wan,” Dean bit off as he dug his shaking hands into his pants pockets. Time had been messed with. Stuff had _changed_. What else was different and he didn’t know about it? He sucked in a breath. “My grandmother.” He stared at Castiel. “Samuel said he came here to thank me for saving my grandmother, only I didn’t. I watched Azazel snap her neck after he stabbed himself.”

Castiel’s frown deepened. “This goes back further than my travels into the future.” The angel closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again. “I have alerted my garrison to start from that point in your history, and see if there are other changes. Where the path diverged, we will find it.”

Dean chewed on his lip, contemplating the stupidity of what he was about to do. “Wait. Cas.” He held his hand out, imploring the angel to stay. “What if this is a good thing? My grandmother survived the attack. Instead of losing both parents, my mom only lost one. What if this is what’s meant to be?” His breath quickened. “What if this is how things are supposed to be?”

Castiel was shaking his head before Dean finished speaking. “Millions upon millions of choices are made, Dean, and infinite possibilities exist based on those choices. If things have changed, then you and I are in the wrong possibility. The worlds must be set right.”

Dean heard a distant popping sound at the same instant Castiel’s head snapped up. “Something’s here.” Not bothering to wait for Dean, Castiel flung open the front door and approached the being under the burned out street lamp.

Dean jogged to catch up, warily keeping an eye on the – familiar shape. Familiar height. It couldn’t be. It _couldn’t_. “Sam?”

“Stay back, Dean,” Castiel warned as he flung a hand behind him.

“Cas?” Sam’s voice sounded rusty with disuse, but Dean had heard it enough times, even in that rough state, to know that it was _Sam_. “Cas, what’s happening?”

“You aren’t alone, Sam,” Cas stated as he froze Sam where he stood. “What have you brought with you?”

“He brought me here,” Sam explained, strength returning to his voice.

Dean blinked back tears as he stared at his brother, a fleeting thought to pray that this was an alive Sam, and not another ghost like he’d been seeing.

“That isn’t possible!” Castiel raged, advancing on Sam even as Dean tried to hold him back.

“Cas! Cas, please. This is my brother. It’s Sam. He’s out. I don’t care how and I don’t care what he brought back with him.”

“ _You_ may not care, but I _must_ ,” Castiel growled and flung Dean onto the lawn. He continued advancing on Sam until he could place his hand on Sam’s forehead and concentrated on the _other_ he could sense.

_Castiel_ , the voice called. Y _ou have released me from a prison of my own doing. There are no words in any language to express my gratitude_. 

_You cannot be,_ Castiel replied. _It is an impossibility. You were sealed in the cage with Michael._

And yet here I am, and I am ready for peace, brother. Please, grant me peace so that I may do no more harm. That I may suffer no longer. I do not wish further eternity of loneliness at my brother’s side. I release my vessel to you.

Castiel snatched his hand away and stared into Sam’s eyes, unable to comprehend the flare of Grace that stared back.

“Cas, what the hell!” Dean yelled as he pulled Castiel further away from his brother, grabbing hold of Sam’s arms and shaking him.

“Sam, can you hear me? Are you okay?”

Sam tilted his head at Castiel, and Dean released him and stepped back. That wasn’t all his brother; that look was far too familiar – “Cas. Who is that?” he asked quietly, afraid to even stir the air with his breath. If that was an angel in his brother, like he suspected, then that meant Sam had brought Lucifer back with him. Hell could literally be on his heels.

“You know who it is, Dean,” Castiel replied as he stepped forward into Sam’s personal space. “But he wishes peace.”

Hysterical laughter bubbled up until Dean all but choked on it. “Peace. From the being that wanted to burn the planet.” Castiel tilted his head as Dean had just seen Sam do, and Dean had to move back, too afraid of what might be happening. He couldn’t stop a fly from being swatted, let alone stop whatever it was that Lucifer was doing wearing his brother. “Sam,” he choked out.

He held his breath as Castiel regarded Sam for long minutes. “Morningstar,” he stated, startling Dean with the abrupt end to the silence. “Do you repent for the sins against God our Father? Is it in your heart to forgive Him and Michael for his duty to our Father? Do you prostrate yourself at His feet and give yourself freely to His will?”

Dean watched, sickly fascinated, as Sam sank to his knees before Castiel, head bowed. “I beg forgiveness for my sins against our Father. It is with my whole heart that I forgive my brother, Michael, for casting me out, as was his duty and right. I give myself freely and wholly over to God’s will.” Sam raised his head, and Dean sucked in a breath at the glow emanating from his brother’s eyes. “I freely give over this vessel to you, Castiel, warrior of God and Heaven, and welcome the end of my punishment and the beginning of my penitence.”

Castiel raised his hand and placed it on Sam’s forehead. Dean waited, but nothing happened until he looked up and caught Castiel staring intently at him. “Close your eyes, Dean,” he whispered. Castiel’s stare bore into his until he complied, though he could guess what was about to happen.

The searing white light penetrated his eyelids and his hand, and he had to turn around to block out most of it. The scream he could hear over the roaring of the light wasn’t Sam’s voice, not truly, and he clamped his hands over his ears as it grew to piercing decibels.

When Dean came-to, he was on his knees on the lawn, liquid wetting his hands still clamped over his ears, but he could make out distant sounds, though they all sounded underwater. He stumbled to his feet and over to Castiel, who had an unconscious Sam in his arms.

He shook Castiel’s shoulder, unsure if he was shouting or not, but asked, “Is he all right?”

Castiel’s lips moved, but he couldn’t make out any sounds. “I can’t hear, Cas!” he shouted.

Castiel pinned him with a glare, then nodded that Sam was all right. Castiel then picked up the deadweight of his brother and Dean led them to the door, opening it and letting Castiel in to set Sam on the couch.

Dean was on his knees by the couch, checking over his brother. Sam looked all right, no bruises or contusions or even a hangnail. He leaned back and heaved a sigh. At the touch to his shoulder, he looked askance at Castiel, who was looking down at him. He felt Castiel touch each ear, and they popped and suddenly sound was clear again.

“He’s okay, isn’t he, Cas? Lucifer is gone, right?”

Castiel tilted his head down at Sam. “Lucifer no longer controls Sam. He will never again possess his vessel or any other.”

Dean swallowed hard as he stared at his brother. “What he said out there; Lucifer. He repented for everything, didn’t he? And God forgives him?”

“It wasn’t my place to say what God did and did not forgive,” Castiel evaded. “I merely granted Lucifer the chance at redemption. It is up to him whether his heart has truly changed and if he will change because of it.” Castiel met his gaze then, and Dean saw that power that Azazel had been talking about. “In the future, I spoke of forgiveness and mercy. Lucifer took that to heart, and upon our return to this time, he set about changing what he could of his own timeline.”

Castiel forestalled the questions Dean had opened his mouth to ask. “What I know is this: Azazel still made the deal with your mother to save John Winchester. Sam was still a child of Azazel. Your mother was still killed in the nursery. John still gave his life for yours. You still gave your life for Sam’s. You still went to Hell. Sam still killed Lilith. The Apocalypse was averted, because Lucifer refused to leave his confinement.”

Tears fell from Dean’s eyes. He still lost all the people he cared about. Nothing changed.

“How can you think that? Everything has changed,” Castiel admonished him. “Sam never had to say ‘yes’ to Lucifer. Detroit, San Francisco, India, the Yucatan and Egypt weren’t touched by the Apocalypse. Bobby never made the deal with Crowley. His soul remains his.” Castiel touched his shoulder again. “And your grandmother lives in Lawrence, still, a few miles from where you lived.”

Dean inhaled a shaky breath. “I never knew my grandmother.”

“Now would be an excellent time to visit and acquaint yourself,” Castiel suggested. “Sam will need rest and nourishment. I hear grandmothers are excellent at ‘doting’, I believe you say.”

Dean wiped his eyes and stood up, clapping a hand on Castiel’s shoulder. “I don’t know exactly how you did, whatever it was you did, but thank you, Cas.”

“I merely followed your advice,” Castiel replied, a small grin curling his mouth. “You told me that my family was living in the past, while ignoring the future. So I took them to the future to show them what awaited them.” His grin widened to a full-on smile. “I believe you would say they ‘saw the light’.”

It was all still too much, but Dean had to smile at Castiel’s obvious happiness. “Did it really affect them? Or just Lucifer?”

Castiel nodded, his expression beyond pleased. “Heaven is more content now that I have seen it in centuries. We are focusing on what _now_ , as opposed to what _was_. I believe even Michael may change his mind, in time.”

“Ever the faithful, aren’t you, Cas?” Dean said, only slightly teasing.

“Yes,” Castiel answered with conviction, and Dean had to laugh at that. “God restored me, and through that, restored my faith. Through that, I have restored the faith of my brothers and sisters. Heaven is once again at peace. Do you know what happens when all of Heaven is in accord?”

Dean shook his head, still grinning. “No, but I have a feeling you’re about to tell me.”

Cas smiled. “Miracles.”

The End


End file.
